


Show Me

by scarlett2u



Series: Show Me [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Idiots in Love, Intergalactic Smoochies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlett2u/pseuds/scarlett2u
Summary: There is no such thing as a small kiss. It creates...ripples.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune, Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Show Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838059
Comments: 54
Kudos: 111





	1. Show Me

Sometimes, when Din Djarin first opened his eyes in the morning, he had to take a minute to remember where he was.

Because the Razor Crest was a different world now with a crew of three. Cara and the child had turned his life upside down in the best way possible.

It looked different.

When Cara had agreed to join them on their travels several months ago, Din had needed to modify one of the cargo holds to create a sleeping compartment for her. It hadn’t stopped there. Once she was on board, he kept finding little projects to do to make the ship more of a home. Things he’d accepted as little quirks of his beloved Crest, like a water heater that never really got the water to a desirably warm temperature or a lack of shelving space in the galley, were adapted to make the place more comfy and efficient.

Cara had given up a stable job and secure if not luxurious living quarters to accompany them, so it was the least he could do. He never wanted her to be sorry for her decision. She was appreciative of every little change and somehow that just spurred him on to do more. His crowning achievement (so far) was the addition of a gym area complete with floor mats for sparring and a large metal tub for soaking sore muscles. Her eyes had lit up at that and she’d glanced over her shoulder at him.

“And will you be going skinny dipping with me?”

Was she being serious? She was looking at him as though the alloy and transparisteel helmet were invisible and she could see right into his eyes.

She maintained her gaze as if she was waiting for him to answer, then broke into a laugh.

And he laughed right along with her. Of course, she was just teasing…flirting…being Cara.

There was never any shortage of laughter with her, or awkward silence. From that first night on Sorgan, when they’d traveled and talked all through the night on their way to the krill fishing village. It would’ve been easy then, to close their eyes and let sleep claim them, lulled by the night air, the light of the moon and the lazy motion of their transport. Something had clicked, though, between them, whether during their fight outside the cantina or afterwards as she was sipping her soup, he didn’t know. Making friends had never come that easily to him before, and he wondered if it was the same for her. Though perhaps their meeting was more recognizing a friend than making one.

Whatever it was, it made conversation more compelling than slumber. They could, and did, talk about any subject, serious or silly. Their senses of humor complemented each other’s. He never felt that her teasing was mockery or veiled criticism the way he did with others. She laughed with him and Din felt comfortable enough that he could share in that.

The sound of her laughter and the tones of her voice drew him in, and he wasn’t the only one. The kid was always giggling and making little sounds around her, obviously trying to talk. In a way that totally belied her hardened soldier past, she was amazingly soft with the little guy, telling him Alderaanian folk tales, humming little songs and even singing to him if she thought she didn’t have an audience. Far be it from Din to out her secret life of “doing the baby thing.”

He was now on a ship that was homey, littered with children’s toys, and filled with laughter and conversation.

It didn’t even smell like the same place.

Part of that, Din supposed, was due to the cooking. It would have been too much to hope for that he or Cara was a good cook. They were not. In fact, before Cara came along, he’d usually made do with ration packs or protein bars, only having regular meals when he was somewhere that served them. It worked for him and while he wasn’t especially enthusiastic about it, he didn’t complain. Likewise, he didn’t complain when Cara tried to cobble something together and it was…somewhat less than appetizing.

She’d thought the problem was a lack of quality ingredients, so this was corrected when they made the next stop to resupply provisions.

Cara hoped that would help.

It didn’t.

After one particularly inedible attempted meal, she’d grabbed his arm and dragged him into the galley with her. “Fine, we’ll take this on together. If we could take down an AT-ST, surely we ought to make able to make some decent stew.” And somehow, they had. Even the little guy cooed his approval and slurped it down, begging for more.

It also helped that they discovered that Cara’s true calling was baking. From simple breads to sweet treats, she had a deft touch that produced light, airy bites of heaven. Whenever they could acquire jogan fruit on their travels, she always made muffins, promising that one day she’d brave an elaborate jogan fruit cake.

These increased culinary forays required more storage space in the galley, prompting Din to add more shelving in the pantry.

Meals were different now too. He had been used to eating alone, but Cara wasn’t having that, particularly after they had spent time preparing the food together. They ought to be able to share it at the same time, she’d argued. One day she simply turned a chair around until it was back-to-back with his, placing her plate on her lap. “Join me.”

It was an almost irresistible invitation. Still, he hesitated.

“I can’t see your face this way,” she reassured him.

There was another pause before, with slow deliberation, he removed his helmet and sat it on the table in front of him. The low hissing sound it made as it was released covered the fact that they both exhaled the breaths they’d been holding.

Din didn’t know what he was worried about. Cara had said she couldn’t see his face, and he trusted her. The helmet had always been a problem with others, though. Maybe it was simple curiosity, maybe they thought he was hiding something from them, but either way, it always became a bone of contention. It had with his previous work partners; it had with Omera. Apparently it was difficult to accept someone at face value if you couldn’t see his face. Still, Cara had always respected Din’s creed and his customs. If she hadn’t forced the issue as he lay dying, he could safely have a meal with her, right? He took another deep breath.

For her part, Cara felt unaccountably nervous. How could such a small issue feel like such a big thing? Because it was a big thing to him, and she didn’t want to let him down. She took a deep breath and asked his opinion of the meal they’d just prepared.

When he replied, his voice seemed a little softer, a little deeper without the voice modulator in the helmet. It was the same, but different. Still soothing.

And just like that, everything felt natural. They talked throughout the meal, and every one after that, about anything and everything. A frequent topic was the search for the child’s people, which was proving more difficult than Din had first anticipated. Months had passed since the Armorer had tasked him with the quest of finding his foundling’s family or raising the child to adulthood himself. Both were tall orders on their own, and he was doing both at the same time. Sometimes, he felt like he was failing at both. Still, the kid was safe and seemed content—that had to count for something.

As leads dried up, Din and Cara felt desperate for new information. When they weren’t taking bounties to finance their travels, they spent their time doing research on datapads. A search for “green bipeds” had given them a multitude of species, though none of the descriptions or holograms matched their little guy. They needed something to narrow down the field….

Din decided that if “green” wasn’t unique enough, perhaps the young one’s special powers might be, specifically the ability to move objects and to facilitate healing. More research indicated that such traits were characteristics of beings that channeled something called the Force. While anyone might be ‘Force-sensitive,’ he’d been told a group called the Jedi Order was primarily known for their mastery of it.

He needed to find the Jedi: they were his best hope to locate the kid’s people.

Problem: they seemed to be rarer than the fire rubies on Lothal and just as hard to find. When he did hear information about the Jedi, it was so fantastical as to almost be a fairy tale. Few people seemed to know of them, and he had yet to encounter anyone who actually knew one of the Order.

Since any species might be a member, they could be anyone or anywhere. How would he know?

Of course, even if he found one, the Jedi might decline to speak with a Mandalorian, given their longtime history of discord. It didn’t matter, he had to try…for his ad’ika.

This was the Way.

It was just painfully ironic that a hunter who was renowned for capturing the most elusive and sometimes most nefarious bounties in the galaxy should be unable to locate a group of long lived, floppy eared, green bipeds.

He sighed under his breath.

“Hey, Din,” Cara looked up from her datapad. “Have you ever heard of the planet Ossus?”

“Maybe. Is it in the Outer Rim?”

She nodded.

“What’s special about it?”

“It’s supposed to be the site of the first Jedi temple.” She looked down and read some more, her face falling. “However, it also says that Ahch-To, Coruscant, Jedha and Tython are other possibilities.”

“What else does it say?”

“It once housed their Great Library. That’s bound to be helpful in some way, right?”

“Maybe,” he grunted in response.

“Uh-oh,” she was still reading. “Looks like there was something called the Cron Cluster of stars that supernovaed several thousand years and damaged the planet. Doesn’t say if the temple’s still standing.”

“I guess we’ll find out the old-fashioned way then: we’ll go see for ourselves.” Din set the nav system for the Outer Rim.

The trouble with the Outer Rim was that it was just so…out there. It was a remote part of the galaxy, to begin with, and it didn’t help that a supernovaed star cluster had done who knew what to the planet they were seeking. Maybe their information was correct; maybe it only a legend.

The little information they did have suggested the Jedi temple was near the where the city of Knossa had been located. When the Razor Crest entered the atmosphere, Din flew over the general area some of the ancient maps placed the city.

“I thought this planet was devastated, so I was expecting a desert. There’s all kinds of vegetation here,” he indicated islands of greenery showing through the viewport.

Cara could see where Din’s line of thought was going, “That will make it harder to spot the temple, right?”

“Hmm.” Din flew over the area once more, before setting the Crest down. “I’m going to get as close as I can, and then we’ll go in on foot and see if we can find it. We’ll take the kid with us.”

After checking their armor, weapons and provisions, the pair tucked the child into his pram and set off down the ramp and into the morning sun.

Cara blinked as she looked around in the bright light. “It—it’s beautiful,” she whispered in awe.

The sunlight glinted off her dark hair, highlighting a perfectly sculpted face and darker-than-midnight eyes.

Din’s first impulse was to say, “You’re beautiful.” But…wait…where had that come from?! Cara was his friend, his partner. There was no way he was going to jeopardize those things for what…an admiration…an attraction? He closed his eyes as if to clear his mind, and, thanks to the helmet, she was none the wiser. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

They hadn’t walked far when Cara wondered aloud, “What will we do if we encounter locals?”

Din paused. “I hadn’t really expected that, since I figured the planet was a wasteland long since deserted, but I guess we’ll try to keep an eye out and stay out of their way if possible, especially since we have the kid with us.”

Cara nodded. “It’s so pleasant outside though, let’s leave his pram open.”

A coo coming from said pram seemed to indicate this was the baby’s choice as well.

They made their way through the former city, which now seemed more of a garden than anything else, ruins of the old fixtures of the city contrasting with the vegetation springing up through it.

Still, they didn’t find anything resembling a temple.

They stopped to give the little guy a snack and refresh themselves as well, taking seats on a low, crumbling wall in what looked it had been a plaza. They were just packing back up, when they saw something off in the distance….

“Is that…could it be…?” Din ventured.

“…a spire?” Cara finished.

There it stood, off in the distance and set into a hill: the Jedi Temple of Ossus. Made of local stone that seemed to shimmer in a reddish tan hue, the building certainly seemed old enough to be the first Jedi temple.

As they drew closer, both were surprised by the size of the building.

“Five levels,” Cara volunteered, “One for each of the basic tenets of the Jedi Order.” She was nothing if not a thorough researcher.

They entered the first level slowly and deliberately, looking around at everything, though there wasn’t much to see. The temple had the ghostly, haunted feeling that long abandoned places exude. While it had clearly been a very important edifice at one time, those days were long past and only dust and decay were left behind.

Even so, the child looked at everything with large eyes wide with curiosity. He kept looking back and forth to Cara and Din to see what they would do next.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where the Great Library may have been?” It was a long shot, but Din had to ask.

“I think it was the very top level,” Cara responded.

“Figures,” Din let out a sigh. “Be careful on these floors and steps; we don’t know how stable they are after all this time.” They had been built, however, to withstand the ravages of time, and it seemed they had done so.

They spent the afternoon poring over the temple, exploring the empty spaces and conjecturing what might have been their original uses….classrooms, gyms, sleeping quarters, council meeting rooms. They kept the child entertained by spinning wild tales about days of glory long past when a little green student might have been wandering the halls.

“Do you ever think you should give up the bounty game and become a treasure hunter instead?” Cara was in danger of being swept away by her own storytelling.

Din snorted, “Not based on our auspicious beginnings today. We’ve found exactly nothing.”

“That’s not strictly true,” Cara pointed out. The little guy had found a translucent crystal shard on the second level and obstinately refused to let it out of his little green hand. He seemed fascinated by the stone and when he clutched the fragment, it glowed a brilliant green as if lit from within. “When we get back to the ship, I’ll put it on a cord for him, so he’ll always have his treasure near. He can wear it with his mythosaur pendant.”

“He certainly is stubborn about that thing. I wonder if he knows something about it that we don’t.”

“Time will tell.” She tweaked the child’s ears. “It’s okay to be stubborn, little man; it’s what’s kept your dad alive all this time.”

Din grinned under his helmet as they made their way up to the fifth and uppermost level of the temple. While the state of the rest of the building hadn’t exactly gotten their hopes up, there was no hiding their reaction at seeing the library for themselves.

It was completely bare.

According to legend, the area had once housed every text, scroll and holocron in the history of the Order. Now it housed only ghosts and dust. Not even the floor covering remained; judging by some pieces left in the corners, it had once been a mosaic.

Din’s shoulders slumped. “If we leave now, we can get back to the ship in time for supper.”

“This was just one possibility; there will be others. Whoever cleaned this place out must have taken all the archives somewhere. We’ll find them.”

The child let out a gurgling sound, as if seconding her statement.

It was a mostly quiet walk back to the Crest, punctuated by Cara stopping periodically to try to brush some of the temple’s dust off her clothing. “I can’t wait to get a shower when we get back! Or maybe a nice hot bath…hmm, would you care to join me?”

“Hot?!” They’d been tromping all day around a warm planet and she wanted to go soak in hot water?!

Cara shrugged. “Maybe I was talking about the temperature of the water…or maybe I meant something else.”

Stars, had she just winked at him?

He wanted to say something appropriately quick witted and flirty in return, but the visual picture her words had planted of her naked shoulders and décolletage peeking out of the tub seemed to have short-circuited the parts of his brain that handled word play and wit.

Before he could decide what to do, he felt a sharp, stinging pain in his right calf and cried out in pain, falling forward.

“Din!” Cara instantly closed the pram to protect the baby and turned to her companion.

A white, segmented arthropod had attached itself to Din’s leg between the plates of beskar.

Cara knew what these were—and this was bad. Very bad.

She grabbed the knife from her utility belt and scraped the creature off, not caring if she scratched Din’s armor along the way. When the insect-like being flailed on the ground and then prepared to take another run at Din, Cara wielded the knife and chopped it into thirds, not pausing for breath until she was sure the threat had been vanquished.

Din was sprawled on the ground, as Cara scanned the area for any more creatures. “What…was…that?”

“It was a kouhun. Din, did it sting you?” She knelt by his lower leg, cutting a strip of fabric away so that she could see the wound. It was already swollen, red and angry.

Kriff!

Kouhuns were some of the most deadly life forms in the galaxy. They stung with their tongues and the venom was especially potent and quick. An adversary could be paralyzed in a matter of minutes, and dead not long after.

Kriff, kriff, kriff!

Cara grabbed the medpac and began rifling through its contents for anything remotely helpful. She needed anti-venom; all she had was antiseptic and bacta.

Would bacta work against the poison? Did she have enough? If only there was some way to remove the poison before applying the bacta….

And then she remembered…the kid. When they were on Nevarro, the kid had used his unique power to save Greef. And now his father needed him….

Cara knew Din didn’t want the child to use his power lightly because it took so much out of him. But something must be done. If this didn’t qualify as an emergency, what would?

Cara checked on her fallen companion again, shaking him. “Din, don’t you dare die on me!”

She opened the pram. She was just desperate enough to try this.

A series of indignant coos came from the child as Cara scooped him out and placed him next to Din. His big eyes seemed to take in the situation instantly and he immediately reached out one of his little hands and placed it on the site of the sting. His other hand was still wrapped around the mysterious crystal he’d picked up at the temple. He seemed to be drawing strength from it somehow, so that when he let go of Din’s leg, he seemed tired but still alert.

Cara gently placed him back in the pram and sprayed some of the medpac’s bacta on Din’s leg—“Just in case,” she told herself. Then she faced the challenge of getting them all back to the ship before darkness fell.

The next thing Din knew, Cara was wrapping her arms around him and helping him to his feet. His leg was sore and he wasn’t clear exactly what had happened, though Cara and the baby seemed to be fine, so he was counting whatever it was as a win. Trying to figure it all out was making his head throb, so he just concentrated on Cara’s arm around his waist, the baby’s soft sounds from the pram and putting one foot in front of the other.

The journey seemed endless, but eventually he realized this latest hill they were scaling was the ramp to the Razor Crest. Somehow Cara got him to his bunk, still whispering words of encouragement as he sat down.

“We make a good team,” he thought she said, and then she touched her forehead to the visor of his helmet.

Din drew back in shock, sure that his loud gasp of surprise was echoing through the room.

It was a light touch, over as soon as it begun.

But, like ripples in a quiet pond, its aftereffects would continue.

_What on earth had she just done?_

_To Be Continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So if we were in complete darkness…and you removed your helmet, I could kiss you?”  
> She had thrown down the gauntlet.   
> “If you wanted to,” he tried to sound casual, but he was holding his breath waiting to see what she’d do next.

Chapter 2

When Din awoke the following morning, it was to an eerily still ship. No Cara, no kid, and his memories of the previous evening were…fuzzy.

He remembered landing on Ossus and searching the Jedi temple there, with disappointing results. He recalled something biting or stinging him and Cara somehow getting him back to the Crest. And then she had…

“I made muffins!” Cara cheerfully announced as she entered his quarters, carrying a tray with said baked goods and cups of steaming caf. The baby was strapped to her back and judging by the amount of jam on the little one’s face, he’d just finished breakfast. “I thought I heard you moving around a bit in here. I wasn’t sure if you were hungry, so I thought I’d just bring this for now.”

“Thank you.” He reached for a cup of caf, but did not take a sip.

“We’re a little low on jogan fruit just now, so I used blumfruit jam instead. I even added some to the kid’s porridge and he liked it.” She sounded very pleased with herself for this idea.

“Yes, I can see that,” he gestured to the red streaks around the child’s lips and chin.

Cara frowned and reached for a napkin from the tray before unstrapping the kid and trying to clean his face. “Were you trying to eat this or wear it?” She grinned at her own joke and half expected a chuckle from her companion.

“You’re one to talk. The jam has stained your lips bright red,” Din pointed out.

Cara raised a hand to her face, instantly embarrassed. “I’ll just go and wash up. We’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

When she was gone, he cursed himself for being a coward and not bringing up what happened the night before. It was the proverbial Zillo beast in the room. They had always been so comfortable with each other before….

When she returned, it was obvious she was picking up on the fact he had something on his mind…and she set out to figure out what it was.

“Are you feeling any ill effects from the poison from the kouhun yesterday?”

“No.”

“Are you upset that I let the little green guy help heal you? Believe me, I wouldn’t have done it if I felt I had any alternatives. That poison works fast and we didn’t want to lose you.”

“He seems to be fine.”

“That crystal he found helps in some way. It’s like it helps him channel his power. It grounds him.”

“Hmm,” was Din’s only remark.

“Is it that I took off your armor last night?” She gestured to the neat pile of beskar by the end of the bed. “I was just trying to make you comfortable. I left your regular clothing alone and I swear I didn’t try to remove your helmet. That’s why I woke you a couple of times during the night: to make sure you were okay under there.”

“I know, thank you.” He knew that she had slept on the floor, periodically checking on him and the child. “I’m sorry the helmet is such a hassle. You know I can’t show my face to another living being, but if I could, that person would be you.”

“Why?” she breathed, taken aback.

“Because, back on Nevarro, when Gideon had us pinned down and it didn’t look like I was going to make it, you stayed with me and said you weren’t going to leave me. You said it like a vow and I believed you meant it.”

“Of course I did,” Cara snorted. “We usually understand each other so well, but I can’t figure out what’s on your mind right now, so please tell me.”

“We do,” he agreed. “I was just a little thrown by that kiss last night,” he confessed.

“What kiss?”

Suddenly, she was gaping at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“Din, are you feeling feverish? Dizzy?” Oh, gods, could he still be delirious? Enough time had passed that she felt he must be safe from the poison by now, but what if she was wrong?

“I’m not talking crazy,” he gave an exasperated sigh. “Last night, you got me into the bunk, told me we make a great team and then you kissed me.” He explained it slowly, as if he was talking to the child.

“Well, I did help you to your bunk, yes, and I did say we made a great team, but if I had kissed you, trust me, we’d both remember that.” Her trademark Cara sass was showing. “Besides, how could I kiss you with that helmet on?”

“It was a Keldabe kiss,” he explained.

Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t even know what that is!”

She probably didn’t. It was such a basic part of Mandalorian culture that it didn’t occur to Din that Cara might be unaware of the custom and its meaning.

“When you touched your forehead to my helmet…it’s a Mandalorian tradition.”

“Am I forbidden from doing that, since I’m not Mandalorian?” Cara had always been respectful of his ways.

“No…no, it just took me by surprise is all. It can have two meanings: it can be a gesture of aggression between opponents…or an expression of affection.”

Cara laughed, “Well, I don’t think we need to butt heads literally; we do that metaphorically just fine from time to time.”

Din had to laugh too.

“Where does the Keldabe in the name come from?” She was still curious.

“It’s the capital city of Mandalore,” he explained.

“Hmm, call me old-fashioned, but I still think a kiss should involve lips. When’s the last time someone kissed you like that?”

He paused to consider. “I—I don’t remember.”

She raised an eyebrow and waited for more details.

“I swore the Creed in my teens. No living thing has seen my face since then. Before that, I lived with a clan who always wore helmets.”

Cara took a minute to digest this information. “And since then? Not even…a lover?”

“No.”

“But you have had…?” Kriff, there was just no non-awkward way to ask.

He seemed to know what she meant anyway. “Yes.”

They were silent for a moment, before he spoke again. “I guess the last traditional kiss I remember was the morning the battle droids came. My parents were running, trying to escape…carrying me. My mother kissed my cheeks and told me to be good and brave. The last thing my father did before he put me into shelter was to kiss my forehead.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”

“It’s the last memory of them that I have; I don’t want to forget it. I wonder what they would say if they could see me now. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” he confided.

“I’m right there with you, buddy,” she sighed, “but I think your parents would be very proud of you. You’re an amazing father and a good man.” She went over to where the child was playing in the corner. “We think so, don’t we, little man?” She picked him up, gave him a little squeeze and placed a light kiss on the tip of one of his ears, causing him to let out a giggle.

Inside his helmet, Din couldn’t help grinning, even though a flash of envy went through him at the thought of being the recipient of such simple affection.

  
“C’mon, let’s get started. We’ve got things to accomplish today. We need to research where we’re going to go next on our quest to find the Jedi and we need to make some more jam, because I used it all making our breakfast. I know you nearly died yesterday, but that’s not an excuse for getting out of kitchen duty.”

“Yes, ma’am.” How could he say no?

The rest of the day flew past in a flurry of activity. As Cara said, they did indeed make a good team and he was relieved that their talk had cleared the air. They prepared their evening meal together and ate back-to-back as was their new custom. Afterwards, Cara found a cord and tied it around the crystal the little guy had found the previous day. She slipped it over his neck, where it rested on his chest with the mythosaur pendant Din had gifted him. The child was delighted and allowed himself to be carted off to bed by Din, babbling and giggling all the way.

It was some time before Din returned. “He just did not want to go to sleep tonight. He’s so excited.”

“At least it’s for a positive reason tonight.” She gave him a wide smile. “Last night, we were both scared out of our minds about that kouhun sting.”

“Thank you, Cara, for everything.”

“What are friends for?” she shrugged, though the color rose in her cheeks. “I think I’ll be heading off to bed,” she stifled a yawn. “Sure you don’t want another Keldabe kiss?”

They both laughed.

“Really, it’s a kriffing shame you can’t take that helmet off. I could give you a traditional kiss, show you what you’ve been missing.”

“I can take off the helmet, you just can’t see my face. That’s the intent of the practice.” Why had he said that? Cara said teasing, flirty things often and he either ignored them or laughed them off. Why wasn’t he doing that tonight?

“So if we were in complete darkness…and you removed your helmet, I could kiss you?”

She had thrown down the gauntlet.

“If you wanted to,” he tried to sound casual, but he was holding his breath waiting to see what she’d do next.

“It seems wrong not to experience all the simple pleasures life has to offer, and a kiss is one of those things.”

His reply was a noncommittal “hmm.” It couldn’t possibly be as good as she was making it sound.

“Are you doubting me?” She came closer to him and extinguished the lights in the cockpit. The click was like a dare.

Maybe it was simple curiosity.

Maybe it was that he’d almost died the day before.

Maybe it just an irresistible offer.

A little voice in his head argued that this was a bad idea. Cara was his friend, the best friend he’d ever had. Every physical relationship he’d ever had (not that there had been many) had ended in disillusionment for him.

Another voice, louder and more insistent, argued that it would be fine _because_ she was his friend. It was just a kiss, right? Just a touch of their lips together. It barely even registered on the physical intimacy scale. Why did he want this so much?

He had every reason to switch the lights back on, change the subject and get out of there while he still could.

He didn’t move a muscle.

Whatever the reason, Din Djarin was about to bend a rule he’d lived by for decades.

“Can you see me?” He had to ask.

“Only in my mind,” she quipped back. “We’re in total darkness; you’re safe.”

Oddly enough, he did feel safe, safe enough to loosen the helmet and then place it on the floor next to him. The hissing sound it made in the stillness was in direct competition with the pounding of his heart. Surely she could hear it?

She took his hands in hers and moved closer to him. It seemed like she was waiting for something.

“Show me,” he invited, his voice softer but somehow stronger without the voice modulator.

Then, slowly, her hands uncoupled from his and came up to rest on either side of his jawline. Cara almost jumped back in surprise when she discovered the light growth of hair.

“You have a beard!” she gasped.

He laughed then. “It’s a little patchy, but yes. Are you disappointed?”

“No,” he could feel her shake her head. “Just surprised.

“I suppose I should warn you that I have a mustache as well.”

Her fingers immediately sought to confirm his claim, tracing over his upper lip and pronouncing it “perfect!”

She traced the contours of his cheekbones…his nose…his forehead…all with equal reverence, as if his face was sacred to her.

If she stopped and turned away now, he thought, it would have all been worth it. The gentleness of her fingertips, the awe in her voice. It sent a shiver through him.

Her hands moved to his hair, tangling in the wavy strands and pulling his face down to hers so that their foreheads were touching, skin on skin. She was so warm and her skin was so smooth. He could smell the shampoo from her hair and the berries from the jam they’d made that afternoon. He could hear her heartbeat—or was that the echo of his?

She pulled back, only so that she could place a light kiss on his forehead.

First, his left cheek, then his right.

Then she paused. Their faces were almost touching. Her lips were so close he could feel her breath hanging in the air between them.

And nothing happened.

Maybe she had changed her mind.

Maybe she had not intended to kiss his lips.

What had happened was wonderful, magical, and he had no right to feel disappointed….

Then she whispered in his ear, “Close your eyes.”

Time stopped as she angled her mouth against his and her lips were exploring, testing, tempting his. And not just where their mouths met, he could feel it in her fingertips entwined in his hair and everywhere their bodies touched. It was like being struck by lightning. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

As suddenly as it began, the kiss ended, leaving him feeling cold, bereft and all kinds of a fool.

Why had he thought this would be a simple thing? Kissing Cara was the most intimate thing he had ever done.

And he wanted to do it again.

_To Be Continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kindness and support for Chapter 1.   
> I hope this chapter made sense and brought smiles. It's been a crazy week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then he couldn’t wait a second longer.   
> His hand came up, tilting her chin, and his lips came down on hers. Even knowing what to expect this time around, he was still utterly shocked at the magic of it, at the current of electricity that ran between them. He kissed her like he’d been waiting the entire week for it, maybe his entire life.

“I’m out,” Cara Dune placed her cards in the table in front of her and pushed back her chair.

“So soon? I didn’t take you for a quitter, Dune,” Din Djarin couldn’t resist the taunt.

‘Soon’ was a relative term, as it was now the wee hours of the morning. Din and Cara had passed a long day chasing and eventually capturing a wily bounty that had brought in a large reward. Flush with cash and victory, they had settled into a leisurely game of sabacc following dinner.

The little one had seemed intrigued by their game, watching intently and stubbornly refusing to go to bed. It had taken both Din and Cara reading him a story, then acting out the story and finally Cara humming lullabies until those green eyelids finally got heavy enough to fall shut. 

When they returned to their game, it was with a renewed spirit of competition.

Cara had played the game for years, with other troopers during her Rebel days and later with Greef on Nevarro. She was an experienced player and a fearless risk taker.

But…

Din usually had the advantage at any card game, his beskar helmet being the perfect poker face and his shrewd mind carefully strategizing every move.

However…

Cara didn’t need to see Din’s facial features to read his emotions, sometimes practically read his mind. The set of his shoulders, the tone of his voice (even through the modulator), a tilt of his head…he didn’t know exactly how she read him so clearly, but she did.

Luckily…

Sabacc was a game of both skill and chance, so hand after hand, it was a toss-up as to who would come out on top.

Hours had passed and the stakes continued to rise. The table was littered with empty glasses. They were using straws so as not to interfere with Din’s helmet.

“You don’t take me for a quitter, Djarin? Well, so far you’ve taken me for everything else I have.” She gestured at the pile of items she’d already lost: her share of the bounty, a half empty bottle of liquor, some jet beads from the braid in her hair, and a couple of day-old blumfruit muffins. “It’s late, and I don’t have anything else of value left.”

It was a pity too, because she had her eye on Din’s share of the bounty, an armor polishing cloth and a small blaster. She kept winning them, only to turn around and lose them again.

“It is late,” he admitted, “but you’re wrong about having nothing of value to stake.”

“And what hidden riches are you implying I have?” Cara looked dubious.

“A kiss goodnight.”

It was three words. Just three little words.

The room grew very still.

Had he just suggested what she thought he was suggesting?

She raised an eyebrow in cool contemplation, her eyes sweeping over the pile of goods.

“C’mon, one last round. Winner take all. It’s no fun unless the stakes are high.” Did it sound like he was begging? He was _not_ begging. “There must be something in my offerings you’d like.” He’d seen her eying the polishing cloth earlier and she’d deliberately not looked at the blaster, which was telling in itself.

She appeared to be considering the matter. “You know, the ship that made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs was won in a game of sabacc.”

He snorted. “I am not wagering my ship. It’s our headquarters and home.” He was firm on that decision.

“Really?” Cara sighed. “If I won, I’d still let you fly it sometimes.”

“Aren’t you the gracious winner? You’ve won at least half our games tonight. You have just as much a chance to win or lose as I do. What do you say? Fortune favors the bold.”

She laughed at that and the corners of her mouth turned up. She’d made up her mind. “I’m in. Do you feel lucky, Djarin?”

“It’s been a lucky day so far. Deal.” He handed her the cards, greatly relieved that she’d taken the bet and that he hadn’t gone too far in making the suggestion.

He hadn’t planned on making it. But the temptation had been there and he hadn’t paused.

It had been a week since she’d offered to show him a traditional kiss on the lips and he’d taken her up on it.

A week of pretending he hadn’t spent every minute since her lips left his trying to figure out how to get them back there again.

It haunted his dreams at night, preyed on his thoughts during the days, and sometimes, when she was talking, he caught himself just watching her lips. She had the most beautiful mouth. So expressive. The merest of movements told him what she was feeling and he’d cataloged every smile, smirk, frown, and look of concentration. He couldn’t decide which he liked most: the subtle little smiles she occasionally shot his way or the way her upper teeth sometimes curved over her full lower lip as if she were swallowing back a secret. A secret he very much wanted in on.

His helmet was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that his…preoccupation with her lips and that kiss could stay hidden. Din had watched her closely the morning after, and she’d acted completely normal, as if nothing had happened, so he followed suit. If their kiss had rocked his world down to its foundations, then no one needed to know that and, thanks to the helmet, no one would. Unfortunately, it also meant that there was no chance of an organic, impulsive kissing moment to evolve in the future. It was both a shelter and a prison.

He was prepared to concede that the kiss was a one-time thing, a flash like a shooting star or a comet, to be filed away as a treasured memory.

Until this morning…

They had been getting ready to go out after their bounty and had just completed a weapons and armor check. As the ramp to the Razor Crest came down, she’d impulsively touched her forehead to his visor again, an encore of their Keldabe kiss the week prior.

“For luck,” she’d said, a conspiratorial smile on her lips.

It wasn’t supposed to happen twice, but even comets come back around again. So he was all in, prepared to bet everything for just one more kiss.

Cara dealt silently and the game play began. Unlike the earlier games, this one had an undercurrent of competitive tension that coiled tighter and tighter as the hands went on. It was the final game of the night; everything was riding on it. Even their glasses sat forgotten on the table.

Time seemed to slow and the game dragged on until finally it was time to put their cards on the table.

Din’s hand was good. Very good. But was it good enough to beat Cara?

Cara surveyed her hand, then she looked at Din. The expression in those midnight eyes was inscrutable and even her lips weren’t giving anything away.

Finally, she laid her cards face down on the table. “Well, I’ve bombed out. Guess you win this one, buddy.”

It would’ve been bad form for Din to dance around and celebrate his victory. In truth, he cared nothing for any of the winnings on the table. He just wanted to know when he could kiss her again.

As if on cue, she yawned. “I’m beat. Want to walk me to my room and collect your kiss?”

He got up and followed her. Their hands brushed several times in the corridor and he cursed himself for being a coward and not simply taking her hand. He would rather face an army of mudhorns than offend her with unwanted attentions.

Even when they reached her sleeping compartment and slipped into the darkness inside…

Even when she touched the bottom of his helmet and asked, “May I?”….

Even when he nodded, incapable of words, and she slipped it off and placed his helmet on a side table…

It didn’t feel real until the rush of air hit his bare face, until he could smell the liquor still on her breath, until he could feel the whisper soft air she exhaled.

And then he couldn’t wait a second longer.

His hand came up, tilting her chin, and his lips came down on hers. Even knowing what to expect this time around, he was still utterly shocked at the magic of it, at the current of electricity that ran between them. He kissed her like he’d been waiting the entire week for it, maybe his entire life.

If one more kiss was all he could get, he was going to make it count. His lips worshipped her mouth, taking the time to explore and gather that perfectly pouty lower lip between his. He kissed her like he had the whole night ahead, a combination of patience and passion.

She didn’t hold back. Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her hands came up to touch his face. She rained little kisses across his top lip and her breath teased the hairs of his mustache.

When they eventually stopped for some much needed air, he felt dazed…dazzled…smitten.

He should go. He knew he should. But he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to break the spell. Instead, he just held her closer and pressed his bare forehead to hers like he’d never let her go.

Eventually, he did step out of their embrace. “Thank you for the kiss goodnight.” He wanted her to hear it from his own voice, not through the modulator in the helmet, but he felt he sounded unsteady.

“My pleasure.” She sounded unsteady as well.

He put on his helmet and turned to go when he felt her hand on his arm.

“Just so you know, the next time you want a kiss, you don’t have to make a wager; you just have to ask.”

He couldn’t have spoken then, so he gave a gruff nod.

“And next time, there will be tongue kissing.”

He really couldn’t speak now.

“Stop gaping at me! And don’t swallow your tongue, Din; we’re going to need that later.”

He didn’t need to see her face in the dark to know that was either smirking or biting that delicious lip of hers.

“Goodnight.”

He moved down the corridor in a dream-like state. Maybe he was already asleep. If he was, he didn’t want to wake up.

When he passed the table, he took a moment to put the half empty glasses in the galley sink and clear the cards from the table. He turned Cara’s cards over, idly curious what hand had resulted in his great win tonight.

And he froze.

Cara had cheated.

She’d “bombed out,” she said, yet the hand of cards she’d had was an almost perfect one, one that easily beat out his.

She had thrown the game in his favor.

Why had she done that?

He boxed up the cards, turned out the lights and headed for his own bunk.

Tomorrow, and the promise of another kiss, would be here soon enough. In the meantime, he’d see her in his dreams.

_To Be Continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sabacc game in this chapter was inspired by chapter 42 of gernetiana's "these bruises make for better conversation." She is always full of enthusiasm and ideas, and in short, she's just wonderful. Thanks for letting me borrow the plot device! 
> 
> The ship won in a sabacc game that Cara references is a little heap of junk called The Millennium Falcon. You may have heard of it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know much about cards, whether here on Earth or in the Star Wars Universe. My husband's best friend has a big euchre tournament party every year and you know what I bring to the table? Brownies. So if my version of sabacc sounds a mix of Texas Hold'em, Old Maid and Go Fish, that's probably why. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are a girl's best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s the matter, Din?” That smug, teasing note was in her voice. “Loth-cat got your tongue? Or is that just my prerogative?” She nipped at his lip again and sighed against his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Lady Vibeke.

Cara stifled a yawn. “I guess it’s time to turn in.”

_Showtime._

Din froze. He’d been waiting all evening for this very moment.

No, that wasn’t right; he’d been waiting since the night before.

She’d thrown their sabacc game and he’d collected his kiss.

“Next time you want a kiss, you just have to ask,” she’d said.

Either one of those two things should have given him the courage to say something at this moment.

He remained stock still.

As if outside his body, he watched her stand, heard her say “goodnight,” heard his own voice echo the greeting…and then she was gone.

He was alone in the room.

How had this happened? How had something he’d been anticipating go so wrong? He had bungled this and he didn’t even know how.

He wanted to stop her. He had so many questions:

_Why had she thrown that game last night?_

_When could he kiss her again?_

_What was this magical ‘kissing with tongues’ she had mentioned?_

Din wished he could just ask these things. He was on unsure footing here, he knew. If only this thing between them weren’t so delicate yet so important, perhaps he could talk about it more easily.

It was like the kid playing with butterflies in a field. He’d hold out his little green hand and let the butterfly light on it, watching the movement of the insect’s colorful wings as if transfixed. Inevitably, the kid would make a movement and the startled butterfly would fly away.

If Din showed up at the door of her room right now, would that be coming on too strong? Yes, Cara had extended the promise of future kisses, but maybe she didn’t mean the very next night. How had he even gotten through the day waiting? At breakfast, she’d acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred and he followed her lead. He’d even avoided looking at her lips all day, but that was no help at all. Because his lips remembered all too well how sweet hers had felt on his and they craved that feeling again.

This was ridiculous, his mind argued. Cara was a strikingly beautiful woman. She had no doubt been receiving unwelcome attention for it most of her life. If she wasn’t feeling welcoming tonight, she’d say so—she was nothing if not direct. And he would go in good grace.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Fortune favors the bold. He had quoted that last night in hopes of persuading her to play a final hand. Maybe he should take his own advice.

Were the odds in his favor? There was really only one way to find out.

He’d just go to her sleeping compartment. If she appeared uninterested, he could play it off as wanting to ask her something about their next journey to locate the Jedi. And if she were…well, then he would kiss her breathless.

But he had to do something. Who knows how long he’d been standing there debating the issue with himself.

Din moved toward her cabin with purposeful strides, not allowing himself to pause until he reached her door. He raised his hand to knock. Before it could make contact, the door suddenly swung open, revealing an unarmored Cara silhouetted in the door frame.

“Finally!” she huffed. “What took you so long?”

He was so elated and relieved that the metaphorical butterflies flew en masse and somehow took residence in his stomach.

She wasted no time in grabbing him by his cowl and pulling him into the dark.

He returned the favor by removing his helmet.

Then, almost as if perfectly choreographed, they reached for each other and their lips met.

Din was almost grateful for the helmet then, because if his face were always bare, he’d spend every minute of every day kissing Cara Dune and they’d never get anything else done.

He captured that full, pouty lower lip of hers between his, and decided, on second thought, that accomplishments were vastly overrated compared to this.

They paused for a moment to catch their breath, but she stayed close, her face still touching his, almost breathing the same air. He’d never get over it: the magical way her skin felt against his.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” she confided in a whisper. “You haven’t looked at my face all day.”

He was too surprised to deny it. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t need to see your face to know what’s going on inside that helmet,” she reminded him.

“Well, maybe you do, because then you’d know that I’ve been trying not to think about kissing you all day.”

She laughed. “Really? How did that work out for you?”

He laughed too. “I’m here now, aren’t I? If I were frozen in carbonite for a thousand years, the first thing I’d think of after defrosting is your lips.” He hadn’t meant to say that last bit, but it had come out anyway. Would she think it was corny?

In the dark he could see the silhouette of her smile.

“I’m just glad you waited for me tonight.”

“I didn’t. I’d gotten tired of waiting; I was coming to find you,” she admitted.

“And we met in the middle.”

“Mm hmm,” she hummed it against his mouth and the shiver went through his whole body. The kiss she gave him evolved into ensnaring his upper lips between hers and gently tugging on it with her teeth.

He followed suit with her lower lip.

The tip of her tongue came out and traced the outline of his captured lip.

Was this the kissing with tongues she’d promised? He was intrigued.

Her lips parted his and her tongue was seeking his own.

He went completely still for the merest of seconds before his did the same. It seemed only right that they meet in the middle again.

The taste of her, the velvety feel of her tongue against his as they danced together. It was too much, overwhelming….

She was seducing him with her mouth, and he was under her spell.

Oh. Ohh. So this was what she’d meant.

It was several minutes later when they broke apart, breathless.

“That was...,” Din had lost the ability to speak.

_Amazing? Mind-blowing? Everything?_

“What’s the matter, Din?” That smug, teasing note was in her voice. “Loth-cat got your tongue? Or is that just my prerogative?” She nipped at his lip again and sighed against his mouth.

He should go. He knew he should. Now would be the time to go.

He was going. He was definitely going…

But…

She left a trail of kisses across his cheek, built up some delicious friction nuzzling his bearded jawline and by the time her lips found his neck, he wasn’t going anywhere.

They somehow ended up sitting on the edge of her bunk, her lips worshipping the column of his throat and his raining kisses across the top of her shoulder. His fingers came up to push the material of her shirt aside so that he could reach her bare skin. It was smooth and strong and impossible to resist.

Someone moaned, though neither was sure who. Still, it was enough of a reminder that they were both edging closer to losing control.

“It’s getting late. I should go.” He placed one last reverent kiss on her shoulder before moving her shirt collar back into place.

_Was it his imagination or did she pull him just a little bit closer?_

“Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, Cara.”

Neither could resist one last touch of their lips before parting.

The following evening, when announcing her intention to go to bed, Cara dropped a quick wink in his direction.

Din was not so foolish as to keep her waiting a second time.

Maybe they couldn’t share a spontaneous embrace, but oh, there was something to be said for anticipation.

There was something special about nights on the Crest. Between caring for the kid, searching for his people and taking bounties to finance it all, the evenings became a quiet respite from their usual frantic pace.

One evening a few nights later was no exception. Din and Cara had prepared and consumed a delicious dinner before Cara gave the little one his bath. It surprised Din how quickly the child had become bonded to her. Bathtime was a particular favorite activity of theirs. The child seemed drawn to water and Cara indulged him, putting him in the big tub Din had acquired for their gym area and letting him splash and play to his heart’s content. There was a plethora of bath toys and Cara would tell stories and describe scenarios where the kid might be a sailor, a whale or a dreaded sea monster. This was always met with more splashing and giggling.

“You’re going to spoil him,” Din felt he had to warn her, but she just shrugged it off.

“How can there be such a thing as getting too much love?”

Din had no answer to that. The kid had been through so much already that it was always a pleasure to just let him be a kid for a little while. And he couldn’t argue with the results. Cara might have to use several towels to wipe up any spills and splashes, but when she was done, the kid was clean, comfortable and undeniably happy. It typically relaxed him and helped him get ready for bedtime.

Tonight, though, he wasn’t having any of it. He stubbornly fought sleep, preferring to stay by Din’s side and play with toys. Eventually, he settled on one toy (his favorite stuffed frog) and snuggled up to Din before letting his bright eyes fall closed.

“Is he out?” Cara whispered.

“Like a light. I’ll go put him in his crib.”

Din’s stealth was an asset on his job and never more so than when trying to get a sleeping baby settled in for the night. When he returned, Cara was in her same spot on the floor, ankles crossed, shuffling through a deck of sabacc cards.

“Up for a little gambling tonight?” One side of her mouth curved into a smirk.

“Are you looking for a rematch?” He sounded amused.

“Just…feeling lucky,” she shrugged.

“I don’t know what we’d play for. I thought we wagered everything the other night.”

“Not exactly,” was her cryptic reply.

Was she hoping to win back some of the stakes she’d lost in throwing the game? Or maybe she was looking to establish some limitations to his late-night kissing visits? Oh, please, no.

“Well, I don’t see what we have left, other than the shirts on our backs.”

“Exactly.” The smirk turned into a full smile at that.

“You mean…?”

“Strip sabacc? Yes.”

He was silent for a moment.

“You’re not interested?”

Oh, he was very interested, especially if he could win this game. And given their playing history, there was a good chance he might.

Or he might lose.

Anyway, with stakes like these, even losing looked like a good proposition.

“There would need to be some rules.”

“Naturally. Like no armor, for instance.”

“Well, we’re not wearing any at the moment, so that’s easy enough.”

“Good. The helmet stays on,” he reminded her.

“Again, naturally.”

“So it’s winner take all….”

“And loser takes it all…off.”

It was suddenly very warm in the cabin. He felt like he needed a drink, but asking for one was too much of an admission of weakness.

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He was feeling lucky too.

She tossed the cards in his general direction. “Deal.”

He made a dramatic show of shuffling the cards and dealing them.

“I hope you won’t get cold…when I strip you naked.” She said it with a smile and it was the most promising threat he’d ever received.

“I’ll have your confidence to keep me warm.” Din never imagined himself to be a flirt or a wit, yet somehow she seemed to draw it out in him at random times.

He turned over the first card.

Game on.

The first hand went quickly and fortune was indeed favoring Din as Cara was forced to part with a sock.

Hand 2: Cara bid farewell to the sock’s mate.

By hand 5, they were both barefoot and up past their usual bedtime.

Hand 6 saw Cara’s belt unbuckle and join the pile between them.

Hands 7 and 8 resulted in Din’s losing his belt and shirt.

Those dark eyes seemed to grow a shade darker as they swept appraisingly over his upper body, obviously enjoying the view. “Nice shoulders,” she commented.

He felt a sort of baffled pride at her shameless surveillance. No one had ever made him feel so desirable before.

Still…

Under his helmet, Din frowned. This was not how he was expecting the game to go. He was down to his pants and underwear. She was giving him a run for his skivvies and all the while still wearing too many clothes herself.

He felt some better when Hand 9 had Cara slowly unbuttoning her shirt and he (maybe not so?) secretly stared when Hand 10 took the camisole she wore beneath it.

Cara was down to pants, panties and the black bandeau bra she wore underneath the camisole.

They were pretty much even now. Whatever happened over the next couple of hands would determine who won the game.

Hand 11 was played…and it went to Din.

Beneath the helmet, his gaze went straight to Cara’s. What would she take off this time?

Please let it be the bandeau, he begged the universe. He was used to seeing her in armor or kissing her in the dark. While his mind knew that under her armor and clothing was a curvy, feminine form, his eyes were starving for a glimpse. What shape were her breasts? What color were her nipples? Were they a rosy color or a duskier hue? How would they feel under his hands, his lips? Lately, he’d been torturing himself thinking about it.

He should’ve been praying harder and not daydreaming, because when he looked up, Cara was standing and unbuttoning her pants. She slid them over her hips and down her thighs until they finally dropped in a puddle of fabric at her ankles. Then she gracefully stepped out of them and kicked them into the center “pot.”

Now she was standing in front of him in all her naked legged glory.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Stars, he thought he’d seen Cara’s legs before this—and he had, in tending injuries or just casually relaxing--but this was the whole package from hip to toe and the combined effect was devastating.

They were absolutely kriffing perfect.

Long.

Strong.

Sleek.

They were perfectly proportioned from the flare of her hips to the column of her thighs to the swell of her calves to the deceptive delicacy of her ankles.

He wanted desperately to touch them, to see if they could possibly be as silky and strong as they looked. He’d start at her ankles, squeeze her calves, nibble his way up her thighs until they fell open to welcome him.

He was staring, he knew, but she probably did too, judging by the not-so-innocent smile on her face.

The thought of those legs wrapping around his body…

His mouth went dry.

This was dangerous, very dangerous.

If he was this bewitched by her legs, how would he deal with seeing her whole body naked?

Likewise, if he lost, he would be the naked one unable to hide her effect on him.

His thoughts descended into a panic. There was screaming inside his head, inside his ears…

“Aaaaaaaagh!”

It was an unexpected endgame.

“Din, the baby!” Cara was first to grab her discarded clothing as she and Din raced to get dressed and get to the child.

He was still screaming and thrashing in his blanket when Din scooped him up and held him close.

“Shh, ad’ika,” he soothed. “It was just a nightmare.”

Cara stood beside them, gently rubbing circles on the baby’s back and nuzzling the tips of his ears.

“It’s alright. It was just a bad dream. Dreams can be scary sometimes, I know. But your dad is here, and I am here, and we’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

The child seemed to understand what she was saying and his sobs slowly dissolved into quiet tears.

“I still have bad dreams sometimes,” she confessed. “And you know what helps me?”

The little one stared at her with big eyes.

“I remind myself that I have you and your dad now, and that is better than the best dream and stronger than the worst one.” She looked at Din as she was speaking and he’d swear she could see past the beskar and into his soul.

She hummed part of an Alderaanian folk song that lulled the little guy back into sleep.

When Din went to put him back in the crib, however, he became restless and fussy.

“I’ll just take him into my bunk tonight,” Din said.

“Can I stay with him too?” Cara offered. “That way, if he wakes again in the night, he’ll know his family is with him and he’s safe.”

There’s barely enough space in Din’s bunk and barely enough covers, but they hold each other close and no one complains.

They are family, this is who they are.

_To Be Continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line comes courtesy of imaginedragonsfly, but I did some alterations so that she can use the original line in the future. Because I know she's going to write more, right? Right! 
> 
> To all my readers: thank you so much for your support for the last chapter. I thought I was being really sneaky about the twist at the end, but even if I wasn't, it was great fun for me. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter. 
> 
> This is the Way!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparring: verbal and physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Name1 on the occasion of her birthday.   
> She is generous with her time and talents, and also her friendship and support of other authors. Thank you for being so lovely.

“I have you now, Din,” Cara’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, by his ear.

“Are you so sure?” Even through the modulator in his helmet, Din sounded cocky and confident as he maneuvered himself into the top position.

Cara’s breath came out in a huff. “Please, tell you did not just use one of my signature moves against me? I taught you that move!”

“You did,” he admitted, “and it saved my skin on that prison ship. You would’ve been proud. But I’d use any move I can think of to keep you against me.”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe and Din had to pause to make sure she was alright.

That second was all the time Cara needed to flip him onto his back and straddle his waist. He could feel her bare arms pinning his down over his head and the strength of her thighs squeezing his sides.

There were moves he could make to counter this hold, but…did he really want to?

The ebony curtain of her hair brushed against his helmet and the soft weight of her breasts pressed against his chest.

Was there any better kind of captivity?

“C’mon, yield.” She made it sound very tempting.

But he wasn’t quite ready to give in. “Mandalorians…do…not…yield.” Din made a small show out of trying to wriggle out of her grasp, but it only drew them into closer proximity, and he had no complaints about that.

“Oh, is there a Mandalorian here?” Cara sounded cocky now. “I only see a barefoot, unarmored man with a helmet on.” She touched her forehead to his visor. “And I’m not scared of your helmet.”

He was outclassed here. Maybe she was also unarmored and barefoot, but with her strength and curves, her hair falling around him, the breath he swore he could feel through the beskar of his helmet and those midnight eyes seeming to go through him, she was certainly not without feminine weapons.

It was a very unfair fight.

Oh, well, Din guessed it was time to fight dirty.

“Then what about my hands?” He stroked her sides, running his fingers up from her waist to the sides of her breasts, pausing as if he were going to cup them in his palms.

She drew a sharp intake of breath….

His hands immediately moved back to her waist, fingers curling into her sides as he began to tickle her mercilessly.

“Din! Din, what are you doing?!” She bit her lip to hold back the laugh, but failed completely. It was quite impossible to sound indignant while overcome by the giggles.

“I knew it!” he crowed triumphantly. “I knew you’d be ticklish.”

“Don’t be so smug. How did you know?” She was trying to catch her breath.

“Because you’re so wonderfully responsive every other time I touch you.”

Cara’s grin turned into a pleased smile. “Is it now? Or is it because you’re ticklish too?” She returned the favor and suddenly they were both rolling around laughing like kids.

There was a ‘plop’ as something landed on Cara’s back and a chorus of gurgles, coos and giggles let them know that the child was up and afternoon naptime was over.

“It appears our sparring session is over,” Din announced.

“And once again you got saved by your kid, Djarin. I’m just glad the little guy here,” Cara ruffled the hairs on his head, “understands that we’re playing and I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“That was just one time, right, ad’ika? Besides, if you really wanted to get your revenge, I bet someone here would like a good tickling.”

Suddenly, Din and Cara were both tickling the little guy and the sounds of his chirps and laughs filled the gym area.

*

“I have an idea.” Din’s unmodulated voice was soft in the darkness of Cara’s room later that night.

“I bet I can guess what it is,” Cara pulled him closer and whispered a naughty suggestion in his ear.

He shook his head.

“No? That was a good one too. What about…?” She whispered another idea, this one even naughtier than the first.

It was suddenly very warm in her bunk. Din almost forgot what he originally wanted to discuss.

Almost.

“As, em, tempting as that sounds, I really need to talk to you about this.” He moved back, putting some physical space between them.

She did the same. “I’m listening.”

“I think we should go to Coruscant,” he proposed without prelude.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?”

“I think it’s our best chance to find the kid’s people, for many reasons.”

“Name one.” She was going to play devil’s advocate.

“Well, we’ve been to Ossus--.”

“Where we found nothing but the kid’s crystal and you almost died, courtesy of that assassin bug.”

“True, but--.”

“There’s still Ahch-To, Jedha and Tython to try.”

“Yes, but Coruscant is the capital city. There are more resources there. Didn’t some of your sources say the Jedi archives were moved there?”

“We have no way of knowing if those sources are correct.”

“No way other than looking for ourselves.”

“No, Din, just no. This is not some abandoned planet or far-flung outpost, this is the main Jedi temple that was converted into a palace for the Emperor. Even if there were archives housed there, surely the Empire would have gotten rid of them by now.”

“Or maybe not. Isn’t it best to study your enemy?”

“It’s best to study the situation and assess the risks. What would we do? Just walk in there and ask to see the archives? We don’t even know who’s in charge there.”

“You know as well as I do that if there’s anywhere the Imperial presence is still being felt, it would be at the Imperial Palace in the biggest city in the galaxy.”

“If that’s true—and I’m not saying that it is—then it’s dangerous for both of us to be there. Greef said he fixed my chain code and so far it’s held up, but under the kind of scrutiny we are likely to encounter there? I didn’t come this far to become a prisoner of the Empire.”

He took her hand in both of his. “I would never let that happen to you. You know that, right?”

She looked away, even though he couldn’t see her face in the dark.

“You feel safe with us, don’t you?” he pressed.

The Cara that she used to be would have been horrified by this question. Trust no one. Only depend on yourself. But she was part of something else now. “I shouldn’t…but I do.”

“Good, because I can’t do this, any of this, without you.” He squeezed her hand.

“What about the green bean? Say we do this, where will he be?”

“With us, where he belongs. Where we go, he goes.”

“Din, that’s all fine and good somewhere like Ossus. I don’t think it’s gonna fly on Coruscant. We’ll have to be stealthy.”

“He can be quiet,” Din protested.

He didn’t need to see Cara’s face to know it was sporting a skeptical expression. “Like he was this afternoon? He’s a gigglemonster!”

“He knows when things are serious. It’s how he helped me defeat the mudhorn. He’s safer with us; I won’t leave him behind.” Din’s mind was made up.

Cara sighed. “How do you suppose we get to these archives? They aren’t exactly going to be welcoming a Mandalorian and a former shock trooper with open arms, you know.”

“They might if we were dressed as Stormtroopers,” he suggested.

Cara drew back as if she’d been slapped. “Stormtroopers?! No, Din, absolutely not. I will not do it. I can’t; don’t ask it of me.”

“But it’s the safest way. It protects our identities and it keeps my face covered.”

“I don’t care. This is not ‘The Way’,” she huffed angrily, horrified when her voice cracked and a single tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek.

Maybe he hadn’t heard that. If she could just compose herself and get through this conversation--.

“Cara?” His hand came up to her cheek and came away damp.

“It’s okay.” Her voice was shaking, but she had to explain. “They killed my family, my friends. They destroyed my home. They wiped out all traces of it. I could never wear one of their uniforms.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll think of something else. I just think this gives us a real chance.”

“I feel like we’re skipping several moves ahead. The other planets--.”

“May be a waste of time and energy. We’re just skipping ahead to the best, most logical option.”

“But why are we in such a hurry? The kid is safe and happy. What’s the rush?”

“’Safe’ is pushing it, isn’t it? We always have to look over our shoulder.”

“Maybe, but he _is_ happy with people who love him.”

Her statement startled Din. Had Cara “I Don’t Do the Baby Thing” Dune just admitted she loved the kid?

“That’s just it: I never expected to have a family or a clan of my own. The thought of giving him up now…even if it’s to his own people….” Din’s voice grew quieter. “The more time passes, the harder it is to imagine. I don’t know if I can do it.”

Now it was her turn to take his hands in hers. “I think I’m the wrong person to advise you on this. I don’t give a kriff about sacred duty. I just care about you and the kid. I won’t wear an Imperial uniform, but I’ll be here for anything else you need.”

“You’ll go to Coruscant with me then?”

“I’m in. I have a bad feeling about this, but I’d go straight into hell if you asked.”

“It’s not like you haven’t before,” he laughed softly as he pulled her back into his arms.

“And we all lived to tell the tale.” She leaned into his embrace. “Face it, Djarin, it’s you and me against the galaxy…and I pity the galaxy.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a slow starter, but in my defense, it's hard to steal a kiss when one of the parties is encased in beskar. Very inconvenient. 
> 
> Kouhuns are the "assassin bugs" that attacked Padme at the beginning of Attack of the Clones. I almost used a viper as a nod to Pedro's character, Oberyn Martell, in Game of Thrones. 
> 
> I am not a Star Wars scholar, so please be forgiving of any errors I may have committed. What can I say, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. 
> 
> Special thanks to Name1 and Lady_Vibeke for being phenomenal writers, cheerleaders and friends. 
> 
> I am planning on writing more of What the Boss Saw (I even got a couple of good ideas from the comments on that), but this story called me first. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Until next time!


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